


Don't Fall Asleep

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: Whumptober 2020 [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Day 23, Dean Winchester Whump, Drug Use, Exhaustion, F/M, Hallucinations, Insomnia, Nightmares, POV Dean Winchester, Sleep Deprivation, What's A Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Being plagued by nightmares, and Amara's power over him, Dean does his best to stay awake.
Relationships: Amara/Dean Winchester, Non-Consensual Pairings
Series: Whumptober 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947223
Kudos: 31
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Don't Fall Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober 2020
> 
> No 23. WHAT'S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?
> 
> Exhaustion | Sleep Deprivation

Dean didn’t need sleep. He didn’t, really, because when he slept he had nightmares. And those had him waking up in a cold sweat, tangled in his sheets, a heavy weight on his chest that made him feel like he was going to die. It’d be cool if he did. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all those memories of killing people, of _slaughtering_ them, of beating Castiel, and nearly killing him.

“ _Next time, I won’t miss._ ”

God, he’d really said that.

And now there was Amara. It was like she could get in his head when he was sleeping. She’d caress his mind, fill him with bliss till he was sure he was going to cum. And sometimes he did wake up with cum staining his pants, all wet and sticky on his thighs.

So yeah, Dean decided to not sleep.

Sleep would have him get touched by darkness, and his life was hell enough, so that was the last thing he needed.

At first it didn’t seem like much of a problem. He just avoided alcohol at night, and downed coffee till he was shaking. Then he added caffeine pills to the mix. He didn’t take them in front of Sam, and definitely didn’t tell his brother that his little foray out of the bunker was to get drugs that weren’t prescribed to him (Dean knew a guy). Just to make it less suspicious he’d doubled his trip with a supply run.

When he got back and was unloading in the kitchen, Sam went through a bag and frowned.

“That’s… less beer than usual,” Sam commented.

“Yeah, well, when it comes to getting sober, there’s no time like the present.”

Sam just looked at him, seeming worried.

So his baby brother had been wanting him to quit drinking, and now that he was drinking less he was concerned?

Well, fuck that.

Just that face Sam was giving him like Dean was hiding something made him want to go searching for some Scotch, or open a beer up right here. Sam couldn’t know anything was wrong. If he knew then he’d try to get Dean to open up and talk, act like he was in some kind of chick flick. Hell, he might use the word _trauma_. Blech!

So Dean kept it up as best he could, and he’d take a few power naps here and there — never long enough to have nightmares.

But he woke up from one of the said power naps, and Sam had found a case for them. Dean tried to be interested, even tried to pretend, but his head hurt, and his body felt like parts of it were shutting down. Could that even happen?

His vision wasn’t blurry, but everything seemed like it had shifted, and was in the wrong place.

And Dean couldn’t stop shaking. When he sat up, his head spun, and he fell forward, elbows on his knees. It took every effort to not faint then and there.

“Whoa, you okay?” Sam asked, reaching a hand out to put on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean tried to slap his hand away, and missed.

“I’m fine, Sammy.”

“If you’re fine, then we can go down to the range, and you can put a bullet in the target’s head.”

Dean stared him down, and Sam gave him a concerned look, but it was also determined, like he knew the logic would pay off.

It probably would.

“What, you want to see if you’re better than me?” Dean asked, doing what he could to make his voice sound gruff, and just a little offensive.

Sam’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, and he shifted on his feet.

“No.”

“Alright, then let’s get going.”

Dean stood, and that was when Sam threw a punch at him.

Even the adrenaline rush that was injected through his body wasn’t enough for him to get an arm up in time and block the punch. Dean knew the next best thing was to dodge.

He tried that, and then he ended up on the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Dean argued.

Sam helped him up. “Testing you.”

“Did I get an A?”

Sam just glared. “You failed.”

Dean was sitting back on the couch in his room, and now because of the fall, or the slightest bit of exertion, or maybe something else, the inside of Dean’s head was buzzing.

“Have you been getting any sleep?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

Even Dean had to admit that that lie was weak and pathetic.

Sam sat down on the couch next to him.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“This is exactly why I _haven’t_ told you,” Dean said. “You’re gonna go and play therapist on me, which is not a good look for you. Therapists aren’t hot, man.”

Sam just stared, like he hadn’t understood what Dean was saying.

Had his words slurred together?

Then, Dean heard Her. She was calling his name.

Dean stood, swayed, but then steadied himself. He darted his head around.

Where was she? _Where was she?_

The bitch had to be here somewhere.

But if she was, why didn’t Dean feel like he was close to orgasm, if only in his head? No, she couldn’t be here, could she? How would she have gotten into the bunker?

While he was trying to make sense of it, he left his room, searching for her. He hardly noticed Sam following behind him.

There was a touch on his wrist.

Sam?

No, the hand was too small and dainty to be his brother’s.

The hair on Dean’s arm stood on end. He blinked, and shook his head, trying to clear the feeling. When he opened his eyes, Amara stood in front of him; all gorgeous curves, and soft wavy hair, and that sinful black dress with the plunging neckline that nearly let him see _everything_. Dean lost his balance, and fell against the wall of the hallway. Amara just pressed a hand against his chest.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she told him.

“No. No.”

This couldn’t be right.

Dean tried to turn his head, and look for Sam, but even from out of the corner of his eye, his brother was gone.

Amara grabbed his face, turning him forward so she could look into his eyes. And that was when Dean was slammed with it, with her power, the ecstasy. A moan unintentionally left him as he eyed her.

“It’s just you and me.”

“Get the hell out of my home,” Dean said.

“Dean? Dean!” Fingers were snapping in front of his face, and then Sam was there. “What the hell, dude?”

Dean looked around, confused, barely processing Sam’s words.

“I saw her,” Dean told him. “Sammy, I… I saw her.”

“What, Amara?”

Dean nodded, then started sliding down to the floor.

His muscles hurt. Using them hurt.

Maybe he could just stay right here till the end of the universe. That seemed nice.

“Dude, you need some sleep.”

“No.”

“How long have you been running on fumes?”

“I don’t know. What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

Dean shrugged, realizing he couldn’t even count or remember what days were.

“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna help you get in bed, and then I’m gonna go on a quick errand. I’ll be back.”

Dean could barely argue with him, and was helpless and weak as Sam helped him up.

With Sam taking some of his weight, Dean stumbled to his room.

Collapsing onto the bed was a relief, even as fear sparked in the back of his mind.

Then, Sam was gone.

Maybe Dean had dozed while his brother was gone. Maybe he hadn’t. The world seemed to blend together, time swirling around him, mixing with that of existence.

Sam was back, and he had pills in his hand, and some water.

“Wuzzat?” Dean slurred out.

“Topamax, and trazodone. They’ll help you sleep.”

“But—”

“They’ll get rid of the nightmares too.”

Dean tried to fight Sam as his brother brought the pills to his mouth, but he was barely functional, so it was no use.

Sam pat him on the chest after Dean choked them down.

“Get some sleep.”

Dean wanted to retort with you get some sleep, but then he was falling down into a warm blackness.

And he didn’t dream.


End file.
